


Full Programming

by sirenseven



Category: DCU, Reign of the Supermen (2019), Superboy (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: (dear god the daddy kink), Brainwashing, Cock Warming, Community: dckinkmeme, Creampie, Daddy Kink, Extremely Dubious Consent, Father/Son Incest, Lex Luthor Being an Asshole, M/M, Medical Examination, Mind Control, Pseudo-Incest, Subdrop, Subspace, Trans Kon, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, i am using those two tags very loosely, implied onesided Lex Luthor/Superman, luthor's hate on for superman but also luthor's hard on for superman you feel me, minor trypanophobia warning, sort of age play??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:14:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24579622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirenseven/pseuds/sirenseven
Summary: “As your foremost creator, I'm really the closest thing you have to a father,” Luthor said. “And daddy always knows what you need.”(a.k.a. Kon finds out about the additional programming Lex gave him for his own enjoyment)
Relationships: Kon-El | Conner Kent/Lex Luthor
Comments: 14
Kudos: 162





	Full Programming

**Author's Note:**

> More detailed warnings:  
> \- Whatever weird variation of incest you get with a scientist who considers himself to be his creation's father and his half-clone who considers them to be nothing of the sort.  
> \- The kind of dubcon that is just rape, because Kon is either fully against this or “consenting” due to programming  
> \- Kon is probably 15/16 mentally and physically (and, like, one chronologically because comics), but it's not explicitly stated.  
> \- This also might be considered age play when Kon's mental state drops, but I'm not too versed in that so idk if it qualifies? Feel free to weigh in if you are an expert.  
> \- Trans may not technically be the right word since he was never declared female, but Kon has a clit and vagina here, the latter of which is spoken about demeaningly.  
> \- There's also some very brief sexism and ableism because Lex Luthor really is The Worst.
> 
> This is in some vague continuity where Kon has all his 90s tactile-telekenisis, hot-headedness, and outdated slang, but also Lex Luthor is his creator-dad. Maybe the RotS movie? Idk, but let's not worry about it, because it's really just smut, and this note is practically as long as the fic now.
> 
> I have never written “daddy” so many times in my life.

“Let me out of here!” Kon shouted, tugging against the restraints.

Strapped down to a metal table had to top his list of terrible situations. Way too reminiscent of way too many bad memories. The douche in the lab coat standing over him pushed it all the way to unpleasant flashback bingo.

The fact that said douche was Lex Luthor himself was just icing on a terrible, terrible cake.

“If you want out that much, why don't you do it yourself?” Luthor asked. Kon entertained a very vivid fantasy of punching him right in his smug face.

He scowled back, unable to give a good answer.

Obviously Luther had done something. The stupid wrist and ankle cuffs shouldn't have been able to keep him down, but they must have been magic or kryptonite-laced or _whatever_ because he couldn't get a single one of his powers to work. Every time he reached for his TTK, it slipped away like water through fingers, only infuriating him more.

Well, if he was being honest, it might be more panic than fury at this point. Kon liked losing his powers almost as little as he liked labs. The stark lighting and the fancy equipment lining the walls weren't helping.

Also, being naked on top of all that? Extremely not groovy. Fully the opposite of chill.

Alright, so it was definitely panic.

“What do you want?” he demanded, working his wrists in the cuffs. Seriously, what were these things _made_ of? He wasn't getting any of his usual kryptonite nausea, but his wrists refused to break through.

“It's really more about what you want,” said Luthor.

Kon glowered. “I want you to let me out of these.”

Luthor chuckled indulgently, like Kon was a spoiled kid saying he wanted to be a ninja-fireman-astronaut when he grew up. “Not what you _think_ you want.”

Kon rolled his eyes. Of course Luthor would be all vague and inscrutable. It was like he actually set out to be the worst in every way possible. God, Kon missed supervillians that explained their whole plan right off the bat.

“What does that even—”

He stopped.

Luthor had a hand on his leg. Luthor had a hand on the inside of his leg. Luthor had a hand moving _up_ on the inside of his leg.

“I know it's gauche to brag,” Luthor said, like Kon had never spoken, “but I really did outdo myself on this one. My perfect creation. Well—near perfect, with those pesky behavioral issues.”

As always, instinct told him to cover any fear with anger and posturing, but Kon didn't think he was doing a good job of it. That hand was drifting slowly, slowly up from his knee, feeling out every inch of lab-perfect skin. Kon clenched his jaw.

“You look so much like him when you do that,” said Luthor.

When Kon snapped his gaze up, Luthor's eyes held something dark. His hand stilled right in the crease of Kon's thigh. With his legs spread like this, it was hardly a crease at all.

Kon swallowed. “Stop touching me.”

Smiling, Luther slid the hand over his folds.

Kon had never understood the vagina. He was supposed to be the next Superman. Even the original scientists referred to him as a boy—well, when they weren't calling him _clone_ or _experiment_. He'd always felt like a guy too. But, for some inexplicable reason: vagina.

He was starting to cotton on to that reason right about now.

Kon wasn't just Luthor's designer super-baby, he was Luthor's designer— _sex doll_. The man was supposed to run tests, and poke and prod Kon with kryptonite needles, and write a bunch of sciencey stuff down on a clipboard. Not...this.

“As your foremost creator, I'm really the closest thing you have to a father,” Luthor said, rubbing the pad of his middle finger over and over Kon's slit. “And daddy always knows what you need.”

On that horrible statement, Kon blanched. He could feel himself trembling, TTK still elusive. “Don't—”

Luther slipped the finger in.

Kon gasped, back arching off the table, nerves alight. His body shook with pleasure, vision whiting out, mind blank for a blissful second. When he came back to himself, sagging down, he was panting.

He'd masturbated before, plenty of times in increasingly creative ways—sue him, he was a teenage boy—but not even his best moments had ever held a candle to _that_. One single finger from Luthor, barely the first segment inside, and not even _doing_ anything.

“There it is,” Luthor murmured.

The finger rocked slowly in and out, making Kon's hips twitch. He was wet all of a sudden, actually dripping around Lex's finger. Kon pushed into it without conscious thought.

“Daddy's got you.”

“Wha—What—?” Kon tried to thrust against the finger with what little leverage he had, even as his brain frantically reminded him this was bad. Evil labs! Supervillain! Captured!

None of it seemed to matter.

“Didn't I say I knew what you needed?” Luthor asked.

His palm brushed against Kon's hypersensitive clit as he pulled the finger partway back. Kon shook at the loss, utterly failing to still himself. When the finger thrust back in, all the way this time, a breath of gratitude left him. He very nearly voiced it before catching himself.

Something was happening. Something was wrong. Luthor had done something to him; he must have. Kon wasn't supposed to be reacting like this.

But it was hard to remember what was wrong when nothing in his short life had ever felt so right.

If he had a complaint, it would only be that it wasn't _enough_.

“This is better than anything you've had before,” Luthor said, not phrasing it as a question. His other hand fell to Kon's side, fingers smoothing his abs. Kon barely noticed, consumed with what was inside. The finger pumped firmly, stretching him out.

Hating how right Lex was, Kon found himself whimpering and nodding.

No! No, he was supposed to...supposed to....escape! He was supposed to be escaping. Trying, at least. Luthor was evil and bad and dastardly, and Kon needed to shake off whatever this was, get his head on straight, and get out of here.

The best he could manage was a mumbled, “Stop it.”

Lex paused.

“You want me to stop?” he asked. Kon's eyelids had drooped without him noticing, but the voice was polite and mildly surprised.

His eyes shot open when the finger pulled away, body instinctually trying to clench down around it and keep it in.

“No!” Kon yelped, like he hadn't been the one demanding it in the first place.

“No?” Luthor asked, pausing with just the tip inside again. He kept it maddeningly shallow like that, even as Kon squirmed and tried to press down into it. “You don't want me to stop?”

Kon shook his head fervently. He could barely remember why he'd asked in the first place. It wasn't important. All that was important was that he couldn't be empty again.

“What do you need?”

Some distant programming stirred in the back of Kon's head. His eyes went hazy, trying to reach it. It seemed important. “Need...in.”

“Inside of you? Like this?” The finger slipped forward, until knuckles were brushing against Kon's folds. He could feel each ridge and bump of the digit, each wrinkle of skin dragging on his walls.

“Yesss,” Kon hissed.

“Just this?”

Lex wiggled the finger. Every motion sparked new bursts of pleasure, but Kon shook his head.

“More.”

He caught the faintest hint of a smile on Luthor's face, before his own head sagged back. The finger withdrew partway, earning a forlorn whimper, before something else nudged against his slit alongside it. Kon jerked his hips, trying to entreat it inside. After a horrible moment where he thought he'd be denied and languish here forever, both fingers pressed in.

Kon shook as he took the pair. They felt good—they felt better than good—but still not _enough_.

“More, like this?” Lex asked, curling and dragging the fingers lazily.

“More,” Kon breathed.

Lex pulled back and thrust the fingers in sharply. Immediately they set to a fast rhythm, fucking Kon hard enough to draw a moan on each hit.

“Like _this_?”

Kon thrashed in the cuffs. Good, but not—He knew what emptiness felt like now, couldn't believe he'd never realized how empty he was before, but the sensation still lingered. This was better, this was so much better than having none of Lex inside him at all, but it wasn't what he needed either.

“Say it.”

Those words, dancing distantly in his mind. Kon grasped out for them, hindbrain desperate to please, and what remained of his conscious brain desperate for answers. He needed...

“Fill me,” Kon said. “Need you to fill me, Daddy.”

He'd stopped looking again, but Daddy's voice was nothing but pleased: “Yes, you do.”

The fingers stilled, but all the way in him, so that was okay. Kon squirmed around them, whining for attention. Didn't Daddy get that he needed _more_?

“Don't be demanding, thirteen. I know what you need, remember?”

Kon nodded, trying to still himself. That was right; Daddy knew.

“I can take these restraints off now, hm? Good to confirm you wouldn't break them, but I think you'll stay put now.”

He would. When Daddy unlocked the restraint around his first wrist, all Kon did was grab his hand to make sure it stayed inside. There was something unkind in the laugh that followed, but he couldn't concentrate long enough to care.

“None of that, thirteen.” His hand was pried off, pushed to the table. Kon whimpered but left it.

Daddy fumbled for a moment to release the second cuff. Kon kept his wrist perfectly still when it opened. He wasn't going to leave. What he needed was right here.

Then Daddy went to his ankles, pulling out his fingers to use both hands, and it all went bad.

Kon gasped, shock freezing him to the bone. The metal table beneath him, warmed from his own body heat and sweat, felt crushingly hot. His head dropped to the side, staring at the foggy surface as he shook and shivered. Empty. He was too empty. He ached with it.

One of his ankles was released from something or another, and Kon pulled it as far to the side as he could, spreading his legs, trying to show what he needed.

Show what he...Why was he doing that? It was Lex Luthor; Luthor had—And he shouldn't be—

Whatever pesky thought had be trying to resolve itself vanished in an instant as two fingers slid back to their rightful place. Kon sighed and sagged into the table, wiggling happily. That was better. Fuller, if still not full enough. He realized belatedly his second leg was free and kicked it to the side as well.

“Drop down is much faster than expected,” Daddy was saying. Kon didn't know what it meant, but it didn't really matter.

The next words were addressed to him: “You need more, thirteen?”

He pulled himself up on his elbows to nod. The hand that wasn't inside him groped over Daddy's pants, over his—

 _Yes_. Yes, that was what he wanted, what he needed; Daddy knew.

“Come here, then.”

It was all the permission Kon needed. He scooted awkward down the table, desperate to keep those fingers still inside, before he remembered he could float. Landing at the very edge of the table, legs kicking off the side, he grabbed for Daddy's belt.

“You really are my greatest work,” Daddy said, as Kon pulled it off. He went for the pants next, but stopped on a gasp as the fingers crooked. “I crafted this pussy myself, you know. Perfectly tight and fitted. Desperate for me and only me.”

Kon jerked against him, remembering the annoying pants obstacle after a moment. He haphazardly pushed them down, pulling the boxers with them.

He stared enraptured as a long, hard cock was revealed.

“You weren't being hyperbolic when you said you needed me to fill you,” Daddy added. “You really do _need_ it. One of my better ideas.”

Kon inched forward, trying to figure out how to get the cock inside him without having to part with the fingers. He couldn't be empty again. He just couldn't.

“You have to suck it first,” Daddy said.

Moving to do so, Kon faltered. If he knelt, he'd be too far for Daddy's fingers. Couldn't have that. After a moment's thought, he floated off the table and turned himself completely upside-down.

Daddy laughed. “Incredible.”

He didn't thrust or curl his fingers again, but that was okay as long as they stayed inside. Kon clenched his legs around them to be sure.

Kon mouthed at the head of the cock, gave little licks, then parted his lips wide to suck in the head. His eyes rolled back, moaning loud at the flavor. Nothing had ever tasted so good.

“Thought you'd like that,” Daddy chuckled.

His hand curled around Kon's head, yanking it close at the same moment his fingers drove deeper in. Kon moaned again, sucking enthusiastically even as the cock hit the back of his throat. He knew it would be even better inside his pussy, but the idea of letting it out of his mouth was horrible.

“No gag reflex,” Daddy said, like he was reading off a checklist, “as designed.”

He yanked Kon back by the hair and forced him down roughly a few more times, before pulling him off completely. Kon whimpered. His mouth opened wide, trying to reach the head with his tongue.

“I'm giving you something better,” Daddy reminded him impatiently. “Come.”

He strode across to the side of the lab. Kon flew behind him, legs still clamped tight around his arm. He was like a kite on a string. A boy on a string. Except the string was Daddy's fingers in his pussy.

Daddy settled into a chair, pulling Kon right-side-up to straddle over him.

“Just for a moment,” he said. “Then I'll fill you up properly.”

He pulled out the fingers.

Kon fell against him, hit again by that horrible, horrible loss. He was cold, empty, alone, dying. The stark white coat against his face made tears well up. The steadying hand on his hip was taunting him.

A blunt warmth nudged against his opening, spreading the lips, and he breathed in again.

“Let's see just how well I've made you,” Daddy said.

He drove his hips up, yanking Kon down at the same time. His cock slammed in to its base, spreading Kon's slit further than before, splitting his pussy open, driving up into the deepest parts of him and rubbing against every inch.

Kon was gone, gone, hurtling to peaks of pleasure unknown, body shaking and convulsing and clenching. His vision burst white, ears ringing. Nothing mattered but how good this was, how right, how perfectly he fit here. Full full full full.

When he floated back down, still clenching and spasming around the cock, Daddy was thrusting hard and fast and without concern for comfort or adjusting. It was perfect.

“That's all it takes for you, hm?” Daddy's voice was a little strained, breath heavy as he pounded his pussy. “Not like some impossible woman. I don't even have to touch this.”

His hand brushed over Kon's clit, drawing a sharp cry from just the light touch. Kon's eyes couldn't refocus, a blur of white lights and shiny metal and Daddy's form. Everything he was centered around the fullness inside him, what he'd always needed but never known.

“Come on, bounce.”

Kon did, taking some of the strain off Daddy. The pleasure grew again, shuddering out from the cock in him.

Daddy was grunting, hips speeding up now that he didn't have to lift Kon himself. Kon swore he could feel every twitch of the cock, magnifying his own feelings tenfold.

“Here, thirteen,” Daddy growled, “I'll show you what you _really_ need.”

He thrust a few more times, hand curled harshly around the back of Kon's neck, before driving in deep and—

And spurting right inside him, thick, creamy come filling him up, painting his insides. Kon cried out, body rocking with another orgasm, head thrown back. This, yes, god. He did need it; he did, he did, he did. He couldn't imagine feeling any better than this.

He drooped into Daddy's shoulder, arms wrapped around.

“There it is,” Daddy said, panting into his ear. “Right up your perfectly designed cunt, into your—Well, it's not really a womb. Couldn't have you getting pregnant. The irritating questions the press would ask, not to mention whatever kind of abomination you might produce... But it doesn't matter. You can hardly understand me anyway.”

Kon shook his head, shifting it back to look at Daddy's face. He really couldn't.

“Well, it'll absorb into you, just what you need. My genius invention.”

At Kon's blank stare, he rolled his eyes.

“Maybe I should have made you smarter. Not _my_ level obviously, but I think my genes ought to grant you more than this amoeba-level intelligence.”

Sucking on his own lip, Kon clenched blissfully around the soft cock and come inside him.

“Not much for conversation, hm?”

Daddy straightened up with a deep breath. His hands slid underneath Kon's butt, trying to lift him up. Kon pushed down twice as hard against him.

“More,” he insisted.

“You need more than that?”

The gaze was assessing. Fingers dug into his cheeks, and Kon clung onto the shoulders harder in response.

“Fine,” Daddy sighed, and victory burst in Kon's chest, “but you'll have to wait. Daddy is human, not an alien freak.”

Kon squeezed tight around the cock, grinding his hips in encouragement, before a hand on his hip stilled the motion.

“None of that.” After a moment's consideration, Daddy added, “Fly.”

Kon reached out for his powers, lifting his weight without pulling away. Daddy stood, adjusting his lab coat. With Kon wrapped tight around his hips, there wasn't any more skin visible than before. He pulsed at the thought it was all inside.

“Since you're so very pliable...” Daddy murmured, moving around the lab.

Kon paid little attention to where they went, hanging on as if he was being carried, though he was held up all on his own. He felt...better. Stronger now, absorbing Daddy like he'd said. 

There was something resembling thought in the back of his mind, but it seemed like such a hassle compared to just feeling.

Clinking tools and quiet wheels marked their progress around the lab, until Daddy returned him to the metal table to sit down. Kon floated a little bit so he could stay half off the edge to keep Daddy inside. That he was no longer as deep made Kon pout, but it was okay if he would be again soon.

The hazy pleasure stuttered when he saw the needle.

“Give me your arm.”

Kon did, but his eyes stayed locked on the syringe. He couldn't remember why he knew what a syringe was. It felt like a bad word. “I don't...”

“Oh, _now_ you're going to learn a word that isn't 'more'?” Daddy huffed.

The tone made Kon cringe. The...meanness? Condescension. The condescension. He didn't like that, but not as much as he didn't like the needle moving towards his arm.

The metal hit his skin, pressed against it, and was rebuffed from getting any further.

Daddy frowned. “Lower your telekinetic field, thirteen.”

Thirteen. He couldn't remember why he didn't like that either, just that it made him feel like a cold and lonely thing instead of a full and happy one. He had the strangest notion that something existed besides Daddy and being full and more.

The needle started to bend against his skin, and Daddy huffed loudly, dropping it to the table.

Hands grabbed onto Kon's hips, pulling him in as Daddy ground deep as before. “Feel that? Being full? Clench down on it.”

Kon did, and shuddered when the cock twitched inside him. Oh. Yes, that was good.

“That's what you want isn't it?”

“Mhm.” Kon nodded, rocking against it as much as he was able.

“Then stop being a _nuisance_ and let Daddy do his work. Lower the field.”

Pressing his cheek against the lab coat, Kon peered at his outstretched arm, where the needle was approaching again. He squeezed his pussy in reminder. This was to stay full. Making a decision felt like a novel experience, even if he couldn't recall what the other option was.

He lowered the field.

Kon's eyes squeezed shut, refusing to see more. He ground into Daddy, trying to ignore all the poking. Full. He just needed to think about full, and not about tests and experiments and labs.

It felt like it took all day. Daddy nudged him around, took readings and then more blood, checked a few machines. He didn't move them from the table though, and he didn't pull out. Kon held tight to that radiating warmth, focusing on the cock inside him. He wished he could stay on it always, just without all the tests. His pussy started to ache from holding open so long, but it was trivial in comparison.

Daddy was talking, but not to him. That thing science people did. Recording. Kon paid it little attention until Daddy nudged the recorder towards him.

“Anything to add, thirteen?” he asked, eyes twinkling.

Kon almost had the word for what he sounded like, the mean tone he'd named before, but it fled his brain after hours or years or decades warming Daddy's cock. He could only remember a few things to say.

“Daddy, fill me.”

He could feel it inside, hard again, which meant it was ready to give him more.

Daddy laughed, unkind, and clicked off the recorder. It hit the table with a thunk as he nudged Kon to move back, climbing up after him. Kon didn't have to pay attention to things like gravity, but he pretended he did, laying down and wrapping his legs around Daddy's waist to keep his hips up. The table was cold against his back again, the only warmth inside him.

“I may have dialed the desperation a little too high,” said Daddy, kneeling on the table and adjusting Kon's thighs. “Or maybe it's an inherent flaw in the DNA. Isn't that a thought?”

Kon opened his mouth, unsure what he was going to say, or even why he didn't like the words when he was about to get fucked like he needed.

“Clench your jaw,” said Daddy, before he could.

Kon did, holding it there. Daddy licked one of his fingers, and grabbed the front lock of Kon's hair, twirling it around. The finger slid down Kon's forehead before pulling away.

“There it is,” Daddy whispered.

Without warning, he drew back and thrust in. Kon tossed his head back, gasping. There, this, making him forget everything else. No thinking, just his pussy perfectly fitted to Daddy's cock as it pounded in.

“Look at me,” Daddy snarled, tugging his jaw down.

Kon's eyes fluttered open, taking in the man above him. Daddy's smile was more a bearing of teeth. The hand dropped from his jaw to his neck, pressing down. That was fine. Daddy could put his whole weight into it and it still wouldn't hurt him.

Spreading his legs wider around Daddy's lap let him fuck in even faster, ramming Kon perfectly full with each strike. He could feel buzzing pleasure building up.

“Fill me, fill me, fill me,” Kon chanted, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Daddy's face lit in vicious victory. He slammed in once, twice, three more times to his deepest press, and shuddered. “Little, sanctimonious slut—”

Kon didn't hear the rest. The second he felt Daddy's come spraying inside him, he whited out.

He came back to himself, trembling and sweating, as Daddy pulled out. Kon whimpered, trying to keep him in, but he went ignored. He tensed up as Daddy's cock left him.

To his relief, it wasn't so bad this time. Kon relaxed slowly, when the cold didn't come back. He got to keep some of Daddy in him, he realized. That made it much easier, still prickles of warmth echoing from his pussy.

He lay there on the hard table as Daddy milled around somewhere, absently pulsing his walls whenever he wanted a reminder.

The table had warmed up under him once more, but the air over his naked body was cold. The lighting was sharp on his eyes, too, leaving them half-lidded. Slowly, thought came back to...Thought came...back.

Oh, fuck.

Horror clenched Kon's chest. He still had that blurry contentment lingering over his body, but memories and awareness hit him like a freight train. His body quaked, and he didn't think it was orgasmic aftershocks anymore.

Lex was at one of the desks along the wall, entering something into a computer. He wasn't even _looking_ , lab coat still perfectly white and clean.

“What did you do?” Kon croaked, pulling himself up onto one elbow.

The man turned, expression more than a little patronizing. “I told you. You need me.”

“You made me—”

“A greedy little cumslut, begging Daddy to fill you up? _You_ did that, if you'll recall, 'Superboy.'”

Breathing heavily, Kon stared at him. He had begged. He'd _wanted_ it, more than he could remember ever wanting anything. The idea of what Luthor could do reached a nauseating level of terror.

Worse, some part of him wanted to fly across the room and drop to his knees, just to get another taste.

“I'm sure I can find a better use for you if you're just going to lay there,” Luthor said.

Kon sat up quickly.

“No?” Luthor's mouth curled smugly. “Ah, well, you'll be back soon enough.”

He hadn't strapped Kon down again. His powers might be shaky, but they were there, just within his grasp. No programming keeping him down.

Kon punched straight through the ceiling and all the floors above.

He flew far, far away, not paying attention to where he was in the slightest. He might have made laps around the world, or just flown in nonsensical twists before it finally occurred to him to go home. Reckless, stupid, slipping in as quick as he could because he hadn't even grabbed his _clothes_.

Okay. Okay.

Kon sat on his bed. After a long hesitation, he gingerly felt over his pus—his. His fucking vagina or whatever. The lips were swollen and aching to the touch, a departure from his usual healing factor. Surely another customization for Daddy's—for _Luthor's_ pleasure.

Cautiously, a little afraid of what would happen, Kon dipped one of his fingers inside.

Nothing. A little soreness, a little dry burn. No magic sparks of pleasure, no brain whiteouts, no taking leave of his senses. It was just an ordinary finger inside him. He couldn't feel any slickness left behind.

He pulled it out.

It was only after he'd showered (twice), eaten (Doritos, whatever, still counted), and drank some water (okay, Gatorade), that he realized how out of character it had been to flee instead of punching Luthor right through the wall. Kon was no scientist, but he wasn't as dumb as people thought, and his memories were clear. He could certainly remember Luthor's parting words, after his brain was his own again: _You'll be back soon enough._

But he was probably just gloating. Supervillain arrogance.

...Right?

**Author's Note:**

> Not entirely happy with the ending, but I've been fiddling with it too long, so there it is. Thanks for reading, all who got this far!


End file.
